Why Robot Porn is not Sexy
by Michelle H. C. Zhu
Summary: Dark Glass and Placido explore several different levels of emasculation in the most unsexiest way ever. Featuring douchebag!Glass and tsuntsun!Placido. [Yaoi, lime]


Had Placido been capable of blushing, the current redness of his face would've put the most hardcore communist to shame.

The Emperor clearly had no idea what he was doing. His motions were awkward and bumpy and he wasn't really sucking as much as he was just bobbing his head back and forth in a manner resembling that of a sprinting ostrich.

Dark Glass could practically feel the trembling in Placido's hands as his pale, bony fingers gripped at the unfastened buttons of the D-wheeler's riding suit for support. The mere idea of being on his knees in front of his enemy horrified Placido as it stood—but this,_ this_ was an insane blow to his ego, and yet he was forced to go through with his end of the bargain lest Dark Glass wouldn't fulfill his end.

A single red eye glared up at the blue-haired man with all the hatred in the world. Oh, if looks could kill…

It was evident that Dark Glass was trying hard not to seem like he enjoying this _too _much. After all, Placido was pretty unpredictable…and given the Emperor's track record of explosive anger leading to rash actions, Dark Glass didn't want to risk castration just to squeeze in a smug comment or two.

What amused Glass the most was Placido's incompetence in this whole area of practice. Dark Glass had to go as far as to shuck off the buttons from his riding suit before Placido could catch wind of what he'd been suggesting. Apparently, the mere concept—wasn't out of Placido's realm of knowledge, per say—but fell more in the 'unthinkable actions only reserved for humans' category, which the Emperor obviously never gave mind to, probably because…

…_yeah_.

Which led to the question—how robot _was_ this robot?

Dark Glass couldn't recall the last time he had his pants down for anybody, but somehow he had the feeling that moisture was normally involved in this sort of thing. Placido's mouth was like a furnace—burning hot but dry as a desert. Glass hypothesized that the android's tongue was composed from a type of silicone and that the insides of his mouth were surprisingly _not_ made of metal plating, rather they were made of…well, Glass didn't know, but it sure _felt_ good.

Without thinking, Dark Glass automatically put a hand on Placido's head—only to quickly withdraw it when he received a sharp growl from the Emperor. Though more specifically, the noise that Placido had made was something between a growl and a snarl…if he had been growling or snarling while eating a very large potato. Not that he could eat, either. Probably.

Speaking of noises, Placido was also emitting some strange noises from down there that didn't sound like choking or anything that could've possibly come from a human larynx. It didn't evoke much surprise from him when he discovered Placido didn't need to breathe the way most humans did—but _still_… Hell, if Glass didn't know better, he would have guessed that he was shoving his dick into the exhaust pipe of a D-wheel.

Dark Glass cast a glance down to see how the other 'bot was doing. Dewdrops of liquid that weren't there before now appeared around the corners of his mouth, which for a very brief moment, Dark Glass actually thought was Placido's saliva—but then realized…oh, wait, that was just him.

_Really_ now, they _couldn't _have been cut from the same cloth! Placido couldn't cry, couldn't sweat, couldn't salivate—and here he was producing pre-seminal fluid from his goddamn dick. Dark Glass almost forgot he was a robot at times just due to how freaking_ human_ he was.

'Cannot taste' was added to the list too, as there was a distinct lack of response from Placido to the salty liquid in his mouth, except for maybe an added hint of disgust on his expression that Dark Glass might have simply imagined.

The natural lubrication caused slickness in Placido's movements that increased the speed and smoothness. Placido was starting to take him in faster now, probably to get it over with as quickly as possible. Stray locks of hair began to slip from his hood and fall in front of his vision from all the back-and-forth motion which Glass was tempted to brush away but decided otherwise.

Dark Glass started to pant as streaks of pleasure coursed through his body, stronger than they've ever been before. He vaguely wondered if Placido was built able to feel the same sensations. He wondered how it was possible the two of them could've been so different and yet do similar—and his trailing mind set up a T-chart comparing their bodies' physiologies for the sheer sake of filling mental space.

Placido was making growly sounds again, but Glass' thoughts were growing increasingly disjointed and he soon abandoned his pseudo-analyzation of the Emperor's bodily processes, switching his brain over to auto-pilot so he could focus on the pleasure instead.

A few minutes passed.

Placido was in no position to dispute when a hand rested on his head (again). He let the offensive gesture slide, too aggravated to care as Dark Glass lost more and more inhibition and reverted back to his primal animal state. It was only when the hand started to push his head forward—impatiently, almost needily—that Placido started to protest as the rhythm left his control and fell to the whims of the other man. Glass didn't respond. Apparently the dirtbag was too caught up in his own selfish pleasures to give a damn about the needs of others.

Placido shot a quick glance upwards to see if Glass' eyes were closed or if the man's face was confronted with some wacky expression of ecstasy he knew that humans wore in these sorts of situations. His irritation peaked. _Damn visor blocking everything_.

The unrestrained quivering of Glass' hips and soft moans that escaped his mouth indicated to Placido that this horrible ordeal was very close to being over. He had already set up his hard drive to erase every last byte of visual data from his files upon completion. The last thing he needed cluttering his memory card (and nightmares) were images of his enemy's nether regions.

The instant Placido felt liquid flood his mouth, he pulled away—perhaps a bit too prematurely, because he sorta forgot how this whole process worked. He had popped the cork to a champagne bottle and it was now vigorously fizzing out—Placido turned away reflexively to avoid being sprayed by the bubbly foam and he succeeded except…_oh god now it was all over his hood_.

Immediately, a strip of red binary coding appeared around him and evaporated his head gear because _ew ew ew he didn't want to **touch** it ayeeeeee— _Placido spat at the ground to remove whatever was in his mouth. A few more violent hacks just to make sure every last drop of Dark Glass was out of his system.

Catching his breath, Dark Glass peered down at Placido's zealous coughing and sudden clothing transformation shift with concern. A thought then struck him.

"Hold on…you aren't going to short-circuit now, will you?" the D-wheeler asked, looking genuinely troubled.

It took every fiber of Placido's self-restraint not to leave Dark Glass a eunuch using his bare hands right there and then.

Dark Glass raised his palms in defense and backed off from the menacing aura. "Hey, they say that water is a robot's greatest weakness."

Placido began to violently mutilate curses under his breath and didn't seem like he would be done being offended any time soon—so Dark Glass took this opportunity to tidy himself up, zipping up his black body armor and refastening the buttons to his riding suit.

"Return my sword _this instant_," Placido barked out the order as he rose to his feet, wiping his mouth in disgust one last time.

With his lips quirked into an amused smirk, Dark Glass produced the item of hostage which Placido immediately snatched with one hand and grabbed Glass by the collar with his other and closed in on him threateningly.

"If you ever mention what happened here to a single living soul, I will impale you on the front end of your D-wheel," the Emperor seethed; the causticity in his voice was practically burning holes in the ground.

Dark Glass stole a glance at Delta Eagle innocently parked several feet away and looked back at the livid Placido with an innocent Bruno-face.

"O-okay. Got it." Blue eyebrows rose, frightened at the severity of Placido's response.

Placido didn't fall for the act. He drew in even closer. "You steal my sword again, and I'll hack off all your appendages one by one—starting with_ that_."

The tip of the sword blade grazed his pants. Glass internally winced. _Ow_.

Dark Glass stumbled back as he was roughly shoved away, apparently having survived Placido's rage-fest. He scratched the back of his head sheepishly and sighed as Placido slashed open a portal out of thin air.

"Hey look…this** could** have been enjoyable for both of us, if…" A causal shrug. "…you know…you were actually _built_ with something down there…"

Dark Glass was cut short when Placido whirled around and rammed a foot between his legs. Glass keeled over immediately, hitting the ground like a plank. Huffing furiously, Placido stomped to his side and gave the douchebag a few more kicks in his happy place for good measure before hopping into the portal, leaving Dark Glass ground-arrested and wriggling in agony.

Z-ONE was _so_ getting a social call from him.


End file.
